


Still Waters

by yeah_well_hey



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: F/M, Forgiveness, Guilt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2538986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeah_well_hey/pseuds/yeah_well_hey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although he has regained his memories and his freedom, Kunzite is not yet ready to be with Minako again. But the mask of indifference that he wears, he must now remove. Because Kunzite needs to show Minako, what truly lies within him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This story is set both in the Awakening and Ode to Memory AUs. It explores the possibility that the Shitennou were freed from the Dark Kingdom and given back their bodies, as opposed to being turned into stones.

I.

He exhales, releasing thick, white smoke from his mouth. Then lets the cloud rise lazily above his head, and dissipate.

The scent of tobacco, honey and mint lingers in the air as he lowers the mouthpiece of his hookah. In his left hand, he holds a book, a recent translation of a work by Lucretius.

_On the Nature of the Universe_

There is a painting of a garden on the cover. In strokes of blue, and purple, and green. A realm of flowers, and vines, and trees.

Legs crossed, Arad sits there, his mind elevated, but his heart so sunken and still. On the table in front of him, graded essays are spread out across a vintage Persian tablecloth. The lounge is empty today, devoid of the usual chatter.

He takes another puff, and shuts his eyes for a few moments. Then he breathes out the smoke, prolonging a sigh. He skims through a paragraph, momentarily loses his focus, which he never recovers. Someone interrupts him.

Menewa walks into the hookah lounge, and immediately spots Arad. He joins him at his usual table, sits right next to him on the cushioned bench. He's not the kind of man who stands around awkwardly, waiting for an invitation.  
"There you are," he says, adjusting to the soft lighting and radiant red walls. "I thought I'd find you here."  
Arad watches him, the way his dream-catcher earring swings back and forth as he makes himself comfortable. Menewa grabs a pillow, beats it back into shape, then places it behind him. Finally, he gathers his perpetually untamed hair and pushes it back over his shoulders.

"You were looking for me?" Arad inquires, putting the book aside.  
"Yeah, I was. You don't answer your phone much, do you?"  
"I turned it off. I was correcting essays. And now I was reading the assigned text, to remind myself of what it _actually_ says. There were some rather awful papers in there."  
"How's that working out for you, by the way? You know, teaching college students, out here in Tokyo. Isn't it a bit of a downgrade for you? Considering you used to be a university professor back in Istanbul."  
"I was given that position because I excelled as a student. I will earn my way up higher here as well. I just need to prove that I am a good teacher, and getting my doctoral thesis published would help, too. Once it's finished, of course. I should also publish some essays in Japanese."  
"That's the one good thing we got out of our time with Beryl. She's the one who put the language in our heads."  
"Amongst other things…"  
Menewa makes a dismissive gesture.  
"Regardless, it's pretty cool that we got to keep it. I can make Makoto swoon in three languages, now."  
"Japanese is the language of our Master. It is only natural that we should speak it, too."  
"I concur," Menewa says, eyeing the hookah mouthpiece as Arad brings it to his lips.  
He soon holds out his hand.  
"Can I get a puff?" he asks Arad.  
"Sure. You can have a puff of my peace pipe, Great Warrior."  
"Ha, ha. Very funny. For your information, I've never even _touched_ a peace pipe. My grandfather had one hanging on his wall, and that's where it stayed, dusty and unused since the dawn of time."

Menewa takes the hookah mouthpiece, makes the water churn in the glass base before producing his own smoke.  
"Now tell me, why are you here, Menewa?" Arad wonders. "Did you want my help with anything?"  
"Actually, I need to talk to you," Menewa answers, handing the mouthpiece back to him.  
All of a sudden, his mood seems to have darkened.  
"What about?"  
Arad smokes on, waits for his friend to find the right words.  
"I don't understand you, Arad."  
"What don't you understand?"  
"Your behaviour. See, I've been talking to Makoto, and… well, she's very concerned about Minako."  
"Why?"  
" _Why?_ You're asking me _why?_ You really don't know, Arad?"  
He shakes his head, won't lift his eyes.  
"How about, because Minako isn't doing well at all? Because she's unhappy, and heartsick. And all because of _you_."  
Arad keeps smoking, says nothing to defend himself. His hand trembles almost imperceptibly.  
"The indifference, the cold politeness you choose to treat her with. Minako is trying so hard to get close to you, but you won't let her. Instead, you just push her away."  
 _A paper boat on a lake, drifting out of reach._  
"Just the other day, when we all met up at that restaurant, she sat next to you, and you barely even spoke to her," Menewa continues. "You avoided her every glance, and blatantly ignored her. She was so upset, she didn't even touch her food. And look at you now. You just sit here, smoking your hookah, burying yourself in your books, while she's out there, in pain."  
 _In pain._  
"You don't know anything," Arad snaps.  
"Look, you're not an easy guy to read, Arad. I can never really tell what you're thinking. But in this case, I'm sure you can't be as indifferent as you appear to be. You love her. Don't you?"  
"I don't have to answer your question."  
"I know you love her. Our memories were returned to us, and I remember how deeply you had fallen for her in our past life. And then, in this life… That day we went looking for Raffaele. In Florence, at the museum. I found you staring at that painting of the birth of Venus. I didn't realize it then, but… That painting captivated you, because it reminded you of _her_."  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
"So you deny it?"  
"I…"  
Arad puts the hookah mouthpiece away, and shuts his eyes again.  
"No, I'm sorry. You're right, Menewa."  
He pauses. Stares blankly at the floor.  
"I do love her. She's been in my heart, all this time."  
 _The Goddess of his waking dreams._  
"Then why are you acting this way?"  
"Because I feel guilty about what I have done."  
"Do you think you're the only one, Arad? I feel guilty as well. Every day, I think of how I turned against Jupiter. And of the crimes I committed as Beryl's general…"  
"But I am more guilty than any of you."  
"What do you mean? We all betrayed Endymion and served Beryl together, didn't we?"

Finally, Arad looks into Menewa's eyes.  
"Yes, but it was all my fault. That sorceress came to _me_ first. And I lead you to her, incited you to rebel. You followed _me_ , before you followed Beryl."  
He struggles to conceal the anger in his voice, but the exercise proves to be futile.  
"Arad…"  
"You know it's true. As your leader, I bear the greatest shame. So it is only fitting that I should also bear the greatest punishment."  
"Is that what it is? You're punishing yourself for what you've done? What about Minako? She still loves you."  
"I am unworthy of her love."  
"Look, I don't have your self-discipline, it's true. But if Makoto didn't have feelings for me, I wouldn't insist. I'd leave her alone, and wallow in my own remorse. Because that's what I deserve. However, I am with her, because I know she wants me to be. And it gives me strength to try and forgive myself."  
"I can't even uphold her gaze, Menewa. The things I said to her. The false accusations I laid against her. I let her love me, and then, I broke her heart. So I'd rather just stay away from her, no matter how agonizing it is for me. Because I never want to hurt her again."  
"But you already _have_. Don't you see? You've given her the impression that you are indifferent towards her."  
"Perhaps it is for the best."  
"How can you say that?"  
"She will forget about me."  
"You know that's not true. The bond that unites you transcended _death_. Do you really think life can break it like it's nothing?"

Arad picks up his book, opens it, distractedly begins to turn the pages. In search of a passage still echoing through his head.  
"No. It can never be broken," he admits.  
"Then let her in, Arad. Just let her in. By punishing yourself, you're punishing _her_ as well. It isn't right. You and Minako are meant to be together."  
 _Like the sky, and the sea._  
"I… need more time."  
"More time?"  
"I just can't do it. Not yet. Having all those memories flooding my mind, all at once. All that happiness, all that sorrow…"  
 _Chaos._  
"I know it's overwhelming. And you have the right to take it slow. But at least let her know you're not this man you're pretending to be. Detached and unfeeling. Make her understand she's not hanging on to you in vain. Do it for her sake.

A framed picture hangs on the opposing wall. It's a reproduction of a Persian drawing illustrating a scene from the _Shahnameh_. Arad studies it, his book still open in his hands.  
"I will try," he answers faintly, and Menewa withdraws.

II.

With a pair of scissors, he trims the stem of a red anemone.  
 _The flower born of Aphrodite's tears._

Arad glances through the open window of his apartment, listens intently. Although it is nowhere in sight, he can hear the sea. Distant waves and restless winds, water lapping against the hull of a ship. He knows they are the sounds of his memories, but cannot tell which lifetime they belong to. Does he hear the seas of his childhood in Istanbul? Or does he hear the oceans of his days as a Heavenly King, sailing across his Master's empire?

The whispering wind also summons younger memories. The incessant howling, the frigid atmosphere of black corridors. The palace he longs to forget, but still wanders through at night when he's dreaming. He pictures himself in chains, suspended upside down from the ceiling, at the very center of the great hall. Remembers the iron mask and spiked mouthpiece that made him unable to scream. Beryl's punishment, whenever he reeked of mutiny.  
 _"You will learn to hold your tongue, my wingless angel."_

There is so much darkness left in him.

As he wraps a piece of paper around the stem of the flower, a cool breeze fills the room. He ties a knot, fastens the note to the anemone with a string. Then he checks the clock, and gets ready to leave.

He looks for Minako at the Crown Arcade. A student of his happens to be there. The young man bows his head apologetically as soon as his teacher walks in, and swears he will do his readings for next class. He doesn't even resume his game; he's far too embarrassed to play in the presence of his sensei.  
"Checking up on your students, Mr. Ozan?" Motoki asks Arad, joining him by the Sailor V console. He addresses him in Japanese.  
"No, nothing like that. I'm looking for Minako."  
Motoki straightens his apron, leans against the game console.  
"Oh? I'm afraid Minako's not here today. She came in earlier, played a couple of rounds. But wasn't really into it. Then she had to study, so she said she'd go to that bubble tea shop that just opened in Motoazabu. I'm guessing she's still there."  
"I see. Thank you."  
"You're welcome," Motoki answers.  
He notices the small flower in Arad's hand, but prefers not to inquire about it.  
"Minako's not been herself these days," he says instead.  
Arad doesn't reply.  
"I really hope she'll feel better soon. I don't know if maybe she's upset over some guy, or…"  
 _Over the traitor who crushed her heart, with his bare hands._  
"Thank you, Motoki," Arad finally says, putting an abrupt end to a conversation he simply doesn't want to have.

III.

When he arrives at the bubble tea shop, Arad finds Minako head down and arms folded against a table.

Her face is tilted to the side, and her eyes are closed. He admires her golden hair, the way it flows over her shoulders, reaches down to the small of her back. One of her interminable locks follows the curve of her cheek, the delicate line of her jaw, goes passed her arm, and gathers as in a spiral on the surface of the table. He stares at her eyelashes, her nose, her parted lips, utterly transfixed by her beauty.

_She lays the same spell on him, time and time again._

He doesn't dare to wake her up. It would be like calling out to the white statue of a goddess, in a desperate attempt to see it come alive.

Arad sits down in front of her, glances at her open textbooks and highlighters. Her music player lies in the middle of her English composition manual, and she has her earphones on.

She slept like this, long ago, cheek against his heart. Under the shade of a soaring tree.  
 _He remembers._

But things are different now. There is a distance between them. The same longing for one another, but stifled by fear, regret, guilt. Arad tentatively reaches out for her head, and begins to stroke her hair. Tenderly, lovingly, as delicately as possible.

The anemone, he sets down before her, like an offering. Then he rises, walks around the table, leans over, and brushes her cheekbone with his lips. Unwilling to rouse the goddess from her dreams, he decides to retreat.

And just as he walks out of the shop, Minako opens her eyes.

The first thing she sees, is the flower Arad has left for her. She grasps it, sits up straight, has a look around. The girl sitting at the next table watches Minako and giggles.  
"Your boyfriend left it for you," she says. "So romantic."  
"My _boyfriend?_ I don't have a boyfriend," Minako protests.  
"Then it must have been some admirer."  
"An admirer?"  
"Well, whoever he was, he was gorgeous."  
"He just… left this here?"  
"Yeah. After, like, staring at you for the longest time."  
"What'd he look like?"  
"He was tall, had olive skin, pale eyes and white hair."  
" _White hair?_ "  
Minako scrambles to untie the string, unrolls the piece of paper from around the stem of the anemone. Quickly, she reads the message inside:

_Mother of Aeneas, Life-giving Venus, Goddess of Love. Lucretius once wrote that you are the guiding power of the universe. You shine through the ages, because love is eternal. All I want, is to follow your light, and bask in your beauty._

" _Kunzite,_ " she whispers.  
At last, she recognizes the man she once knew. His words on paper let her hear his voice, his true voice. The one who used to speak to her so kindly, long ago, when they would watch the sea together.  
"When did he leave?" she asks, her hands shaking as she gathers her things and shoves them into her messenger bag.  
"Just a couple of minutes ago," the stranger replies.  
"Where? What direction?"  
"I think he went, uh, eastwards."  
Without a moment's hesitation, Minako darts out of the shop.

Once she's on the street, she starts running. She isn't sure, but she thinks she can see him up ahead. So she hurries, onwards, onwards, until she has finally reached him.  
"Arad, wait!" she cries, out of breath.  
At the sound of her all-too-familiar voice, he freezes. She stops, stares at the back of his head.  
"Please don't go," she begs.  
He stays silent. Minako doesn't know what to say first. So she opts for the stupidly obvious.  
"I… got your flower."  
Arad turns around, cannot look into her eyes.  
"Thank you," she says.  
She draws nearer to him, holding the anemone close to her heart.  
"Why do you keep staring at the ground?"  
"Because I am ashamed," he answers at last.  
Minako raises her hand, touches his face.  
He shivers.  
"Despite all my efforts, I have hurt you again," Arad continues.  
"Why have you been so cold to me?"  
In her tone, the way in which it demands an answer, not an explanation, he perceives the authority and resolve of a leader. A leader far greater than he had ever been.  
"I wanted you to despise me."  
"How could I despise you? I wanted you to be saved, Kunzite. From the moment you betrayed me."  
"I didn't deserve to be saved. Not after everything I did."  
"Beryl lured you in with her lies."  
"I _chose_ to believe them. In my arrogance, I thought myself above Endymion. And then I came back into this world, only to serve Darkness again."  
"Beryl controlled you. Forced you to become one of her Generals."  
"Yes, but she never forced me to enjoy the evil I inflicted."  
"You… didn't."  
"Do not think me innocent, because I am not. I played such twisted games, wove such perfidious schemes. And it _thrilled me_ , do you understand?"  
To this, she offers no reply.  
"I should have been engulfed by the blackness," he declares. "I should have disappeared into the depths of the Earth, along with Queen Metalia."  
"No," Minako says.  
"I was honoured to die by your hand. Why did I have to be reborn? I wish your sword were still in me."  
"I would remove it, and kiss your wound."  
" _Venus…_ "

Now, his gaze finds hers. She moves her palm across his stomach.  
"I could never despise you."  
"Are you not angry with me?"  
"No. But I thought your love for me had been erased, and I envied you," she tells him. "I envied you so much."  
"How could the greatest, most valuable part of me be erased?"  
With the back of his fingers, he strokes her throat.  
"Staying away from you has been a torment."  
"Then stop tormenting yourself," Minako says.  
"But I have brought you such misery."  
"You've also brought me _joy_."  
She slips her hands around his waist, pulls him closer. He is painfully aware of her body.  
"I want to be with you," she says.  
"Give me more time."  
"Do you not love me?"

Arad strokes her face, the back of her neck. For her, he feels every kind of love.  
 _Storge._  
He beholds the one who understood him, understood the weight of his duties.  
 _Philia._  
He thanks the fates for the friendship offered by a fellow soul.  
 _Eros._  
He touches her, places his hand over her ribs, just below her tender breast.  
 _Agape._  
He offers her his heart, unconditionally.

 _How can he make her understand?_  
Closing his eyes, he lowers his head, brings his lips closer to her face. Lingers there, suffering, then presses his mouth to hers. Arad kisses her with exquisite languor, until they are both out of breath. He gasps, and finds her reddened lips again, sets them ever more aflame.  
She holds him as he comes alive. The force of his passion contrasting so sharply with his quiet ways. She feels the strength of his body, shivers as he begins to kiss her neck.  
"My sweet goddess," he utters. The softness of her skin fills him with both sorrow and desire.  
 _Oh, he is lost._  
 _Lost without her._

He pulls back, unable to continue. His every kiss renews a memory. Feeling her cheek, he gives her a smile.  
"Be patient with me, Minako," he pleads. "Let me weather the storm within. And I will find my way back to you again."  
"Do you promise?"  
"Only if you promise to wait for me."  
She nods, cannot take his eyes off of him. He moves away like a sailor departing on an odyssey.

And she stands on the dock of the harbour, watches him leave with the tide.  
In anticipation, of his return.


End file.
